The Rhythm of The Night
by Dark Heart 945
Summary: Light and dark. Angel and devil. Him and Ryan. He's everything Ryan isn't. So perfect. Why can't Ryan be like that? When it all becomes too much to handle, Ryan seeks a permanant escape. What he didn't expect was a spiral of dread, bitter betrayal, and melancholy months to follow. A series of sick and twisted incidents seal his fate. Nobody deserves this, perhaps not even Ryan.
1. Chapter 1: A Grim Beginning

**_*Awkward cough* _**

**Hello. I think that's a good way to start things off. So, it's been 2 years... I doubt you've missed me, but I'm kind of excited to be back with a new story.**

**Let's pretend that Ryan hasn't left, because... They didn't do him justice.**

**Speaking of Justice, happy birthday, brother. As always, this one's for you. I don't have anything heartfelt to say. You know the deal, "I love you" and that. Uploading on your birthday is a tradition, I guess?**

**Also, Isabel394, it's nice to have you in my life, now. This is also for you, hope you like it.**

**To those of you who supported my first story, Demons. Thank you, so much. I read every review, even if I didn't reply. Thanks for sticking around. Warning, my writing has not improved. If anything, it's worse. Enjoy.**

**Trigger warnings:**

**This story is very dark, contains very mature themes, mature language, and other such things. I will try to put warnings for every chapter**.

**It also contains incorrect scientific/general facts, some romance, (mainly gay, a little bit of hetero).**

**This is an OC story, as much as I hate OC stories, Ryan doesn't have a love interest in the show. The OC has a recurring family, and the "bad guys" are also OCs. The story is set around the time Jay and Bird arrive.** **The genre of this story is romance, crime, suspense, angst, violence, etc.**

**I recommend watching the music video for Of The Night by Bastille before reading this chapter. It's the vibe I was going for, hopefully I got it right.** **If people like this story, I'll continue. If not, IDK. This community has gotten a lot smaller since I last uploaded.**

**Reviews would be appreciated. I hope you like this introduction.**

**Warning: Self harm, attempted suicide.**

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It was only a matter of time before Ryan broke.

Mike had lost his trust in him, as had everyone else. That was how everything went downhill.

Ryan hadn't been doing very well. He was depressed and he knew it. Food didn't taste the same anymore, and it urged him to throw up if he consumed it. He decided to just eat less than he used to, that would sort it. He felt just as disconnected as he did lonely. He wasn't particularly social, and he preferred it that way.

The psychopath that he had come to accept he was just didn't suit him, anymore. He was just...there. Wasting space and precious oxygen. He could understand that he was a burden to the kids, more so to Mike and May-Li. If he wasn't a psychopath, what was he other than a burden? There was something wrong with him, surely. A broken jigsaw puzzle.

So, when the final day came and Mike had rounded up the house to yell at Ryan like he was a useless circus act, the boy had had enough.

He wasn't entirely certain why he was being shouted at, he just stood there and took it all in.

"I didn't steal it." He muttered, not bothering to argue this time.

He had given up with that, and anymore raised voices would make him faint from a dizzy head.

"Oh, really? Because everybody here seems to have the inkling it was you, and I know for a fact that none of the others would steal." Mike countered.

Ryan wasn't sure if as his legal carer that Mike was allowed to say horrible things like that, but he took it like a beating anyways.

"Everybody thinks it was me because everybody here hates me. For whatever reason. That isn't proof that I stole the stupid money." Ryan spoke, monotone, his eyelids almost closing like he was tired of this.

"Ryan, it was £500!" Mike announced, "And it's gone!"

"Well, that's a shame! But I can't bring it back!" Ryan mocked, feigning surprise and care with exaggerated arms, "Because I never stole it. You can't just accuse me and declare me guilty, just because you feel-"

"Now, that's enough!" Mike ordered, aggressively grabbing onto Ryan's still extended left arm.

He pulled the boy close and Ryan yelped in pain.

Then, there was silence.

Most of the audience gasped. They had just witnessed an adult hurt a child. Not that they were worried about how much it hurt Ryan.

Ryan stared wide-eyed into Mike's glossed eyes. The man was just as shocked at what he had done as Ryan was. However, his frozen figure still latched onto the teen, whose own eyes were threatening to break out waves of tears.

"Mike…" May-Li faltered, as Ryan yanked himself out of the man's loose grip.

"I didn't. Steal. The money." Ryan enunciated through gritted teeth and a sore throat.

Clutching his arm, Ryan marched up the steps to the bathroom, slamming the door.

"Do you know what you've just done, Mike?" Enquired May-Li, blatantly unsatisfied with the way that was handled.

Mike didn't say a word, entering the office and locking the door.

Of course, May-Li thought, now she had to pick up the pieces by herself, again.

"Everyone, go and have dinner. We'll sort this out."

In the bathroom, Ryan glared into the mirror. He truly despised himself. The way he looked. The way he felt. The way he was. Everything.

Tears streaked his face as he had one last look at himself, before opening the cabinet to find some toothpaste, soap, and his saviour.

A razor.

He'd never used one, before. He'd never had to.

All he knew was that it wasn't about to be utilised in the way it was intended to.

He pulled up the baggy sleeves of his orange shirt, and didn't hesitate before feeling the icy, harsh metal meet his pale skin.

Within minutes, he had ruined his soft flesh.

He lay there against the bathtub as he sobbed. Why him? He didn't want think, anymore. Need or want, anymore. He was done. It needed to stop. It needed to end. It wasn't worth it.

He wasn't worth it.

He was loathed by the others, by Mike and May-Li. He could never be good enough. His mistakes were too much to bear.

Blood trickled down his palms as he stood up and smiled faintly into the mirror. _This_ was how he wanted to look, _this_ was better.

Besides, he had nobody to look pretty for. No goals in mind. He had no intention of being a model. Unless there were self-harm models around. With pretty patterns of blood, and scars on skin. Who in their right mind would want to view that? Not that Ryan wanted to model for the sane, anyways. That was no fun.

He didn't have any items on him other than the razor which he disposed of, just his clothes.

He had a quick glance into his room. Should he leave a note? No, no point. They wouldn't notice. The bed seemed warm and appealing. Although soon, he promised himself, he would be in eternal sleep.

He guided himself down the stairs, expertly not getting blood on the banisters. Dazed due to loss of blood. A few drops here and there, on the steps. That would go unnoticed. Mike was still in the office. Blinds down. Door locked. Ryan heard chatter emitting from the kitchen.

Now was the perfect chance to escape.

He gently opened the door with minimal blood staining which he wiped off with the hem of his shirt. He repeated the process with closing the door. He was too weak to be able to grip a door handle through clothing - it would soak through, anyways.

As he exposed himself to the late night sky and tingling sensations that the cold air brought on, he trudged in an unknown direction, sure that he'd end up on the streets of the city anyhow.

Perhaps a higher level would do the job. Quick and easy.

Or maybe he should punish himself one last time? Make it long, hard, painful.

If he didn't hurry, he would bleed to death. That was nowhere near good enough. It wouldn't earn him satisfaction.

Eventually, amidst the ever-passing cars and street lights, he saw the park which the river ran through on the other side of the road. Shame, he felt safe next to the chip shop. But the end had finally called to him. Now was his time.

He didn't need the zebra crossing, rushing against the wind to the other side of the road. If anyone had noticed the blood, They weren't saying anything.

Ah, the beauty of Britain. Nobody gave a fuck about the other. They just minded their own business, even with kids involved.

_What a lovely night for a stroll in the park_, gleamed Ryan. _What a lovely night for it to be my last on Earth._

He searched for the tallest tree near the river, and found the ideal one near the little bridge. With blood splattered, slimy hands, he gripped onto the rough bark of the towering tree which over-shadowed the park.

Struggling, he climbed up to the highest branch he could. Weak and withered, he stood on the thick branch. Vertigo kicked in as he admired the height and estimated the fall damage.

The fall would only break a few bones and knock him unconscious. However, he would drown in the river and his body would get washed away. No trace.

And so, with his final breath, Ryan said goodbye to the cruel world.

He didn't hesitate, leaping with broken hope. Blood, sweat and tears mixed with the river water as they collided.

All that was heard was the cracks of bones, the thunderous roar of the water, and the wistful cries of the wind.

But no screams.

At least, not from Ryan.

_This was the rhythm of the night._


	2. Chapter 2: His Hero

**This chapter really isn't that great, but I thought I would just upload because, well, the story has to continue. Also, Justice237 is very impatient.****The POV is essentially from an OC, who will be introduced in the next chapter. Just thought I would clarify so people don't get confused.****XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX**

It was a quiet night, or so he thought. It was late as they drove back home, so he stared out of the window to spectate the goings on of strangers. His squiggly brown hair disturbed his view every now and then and he would be forced to move it back.

His sisters were having a conversation, bringing a dull ache to his head. The yappy one was sat in between him and his eldest sister, which was no help. He just wanted to sleep. They had been required to attend one of his father's business meetings, as they had done for at least the past 7 years. He reluctantly wore a suit, which his elder sisters said made him look adorable - the biggest insult that a teenage boy could be exposed to. His father told him he looked handsome and mature, a compliment that he took with a smile.

The meeting ended two hours late; it was the most tedious event he had ever experienced. The children weren't even allowed to speak, not that he wished to. They were invited to ensure that their father looked respectable.

The chauffeur stopped at a traffic light, meaning they were next to the park. He couldn't see much in the dark, but he pressed his hands against the glass of the window to lean in. He thought he saw something moving in one of the trees. Definitely not a bird or squirrel.

What he saw was not a sight to be seen.

A young boy, around his age but perhaps younger, climbing up to a steady branch. As the mysterious figure stood, the boy in the car realised what was about to happen.

As the figure jumped from the tree, he screamed.

Startling his family, his eldest sister reacted, "What!? What happened?" Her tied hair fell loose to her side, concealing her pale skin.

"That kid… H-He just...jumped!" With no other explanation, the boy pushed open the car door which the driver had forgotten to safety lock and bolted out of the car.

"What the- Where the hell is he going!?" Their father yelled, but the driver had to continue driving as the traffic light had changed to green.

The middle sister shut the door in time, speaking as she did so, "Papa, we need to park the car somewhere. I think he's about to do something stupid."

The teenager ran down to the river and began racing the boy that was submerged in the river, along the bank. His feet pitter-pattered between the grass, his eyes not abandoning the other boy.

When he finally passed the body, he found the safest route down the bank. He slid down, ready to grasp the incoming stranger. His new suit became damp and muddy in the process.

With the stranger now in sight and floating away dangerously fast with the current, the boy clasped onto him tightly, forcing the body out of the murky waters. He gripped the arms of the drenched stranger and heaved him out of the water flow.

He dragged him up the bank, both boys soaking wet. One considerably more than the other. His curly hair falling in front of his eyes and being swept back by the wind. _Was he dead?_ The teen wondered as he checked and found no breath.

Hurriedly, he began to perform CPR. _Thank God that Papa made me take those survival lessons._ He breathed, before pressing his lips to the stranger and blowing in.

It didn't work. He had to keep trying.

He didn't register that he was being pulled away from the dead boy until he saw his father perform the CPR on the unconscious youth.

His middle sister held him close whilst the eldest phoned an ambulance. Her voice echoed from far away, but he tuned it out. He didn't want to hear anything.

The dead boy was no longer dead, coughing up water and blood. So, the hero in the formal attire surged forward to the rescued boy and leant over him, ruining the suit's material from grazing the rough grass.

"It's okay. You're okay." He told him, treating the situation as if the stranger had slipped into the river by accident.

Or maybe he was just in denial. He did witness it, after all. A suicide attempt.

The teenager that had just been saved from death was barely conscious, unlikely to have heard anything. He most likely wasn't even aware that he was alive.

"You stupid boy," The father told his son, "You could have gotten yourself killed."

"We just saved someone's life, Papa." The child argued, "It was worth it."

"You said he jumped, sweetie," His sister wrapped her scarf around him, "He didn't want to be saved."

Soft breathing told everyone that the boy was unconscious, again. Bruises scattered his arms. Clothes tattered and torn from the rocks and rough waves. The weather hadn't been kind to him. He was..._beautiful,_ in a twisted way. Under all of those scars. Amongst the bleeding limbs and battered body.

As they waited for the ambulance, the boy with the squiggly brown hair linked his fingers with the boy who had just tried to end it all.

If this kid felt like he had no one to turn to, the boy in the ruined suit was going to change that. But first, the stranger needed to wake up, and answer a few questions whilst he was at it.


	3. Chapter 3: The Angel

**Hello, I have returned with another terrible chapter that I wrote like a year ago. Updates will probably be slow (oh well). **

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Many people have reported that during near death experiences, they witness a bright light. Something that made them feel safe, feel surreal. It was warm and comforting and entrancing. Was it an angel? Another worldly being? God?

Whatever the hell it was, they liked it.

However, Ryan saw no such thing. Maybe he didn't deserve to see it. Or maybe he wasn't close enough to death?

No, it was definitely the former.

So, when Ryan awoke to a bright light, he was excited. He'd made it to whatever was beyond death. Let it be limbo or hell, he felt welcomed.

Then came the whirring sounds a hospital life machine.

Surely he hadn't survived? He had calculated the height as fast as Joseph could, and he had been just as precise, too. He should have been dead.

He blinked desperately, vigorously rubbing his left eye. Before him he saw the sight of a white room with machines in all corners of the area, and a person. He was in a bed. Wires delicately attached to him, not following the self harm pattern which he had designed to be traced along his skin. Bandages covered the art.

How disrespectful, and how disappointing. He didn't even make it to hell, where his deserved punishment for all his wrongdoings awaited him.

"Hey, stranger. " Spoke a, well, stranger.

Ryan stared up at the person addressing him. He saw pale skin, a mess of curly, thin, straying locks of dark brown hair. A gentle smile etched on his rosy lips.

Was this that angel that people thought they saw? He sure as hell looked like one, Ryan's inner monologue declared.

"Where...where am I?" Ryan panicked, looking at anything but the angel in the room. His voice hoarse and barely audible.

"Welcome to the Magnolia Hospital."

Ryan recognised the name. It was the nearest hospital in their area.

"How did I get here?" He enquired through a croaky voice, "How did _you_ get here?"

"An ambulance, duh," The other boy chuckled, not so much of an angel, now, "And, my father is a powerful person. It only makes sense that he can pull some strings for me."

Ryan blinked at him. Why should he care about this kid's father?

"I found you. You tried to kill yourself, last night. My dad called an ambulance."

"I should've died." Ryan muttered, ignoring the information about how this random teenager was in his recovery room.

"Yeah, you would have, too. I watched you jump, it was horrible. I ran over to the river and pulled you out. Did CPR on you and everything." The not-angel answered casually, binging on a packet of salted nuts that he had suddenly pulled out of thin air. Or perhaps his jacket pocket.

"You saved _me,_ a total stranger?" Ryan registered, incredulously.

"Why wouldn't I? You have everything to live for." He shrugged, legs now crossed in the chair he sat in.

"You don't know that. If I had anything to live for, I wouldn't have tried to-" Ryan coughed, throat dry even though he had swallowed several litres of river water just hours ago.

Like a knee-jerk reaction, Curly Hair grabbed a glass of water from the bedside table.

He fed Ryan himself to relieve Ryan of having to sit up properly, which made Ryan blush an odd shade of red.

"Nevermind all that," He decided, "I need to go and get my father and the doctor. I was supposed to tell them if you woke up."

As he stood to leave, Ryan stopped him, "Wait, did you stay with me, all night?"

"I wanted to be the first one you spoke to. I mean, it must be crazy to wake up all of a sudden to a bunch of adults crowding around you. No other kids in sight. Or just completely alone. I slept on the other bed." He pointed, and Ryan felt flattered that a completely foreign person would want to waste their precious time of night for him.

When the hero returned with a group of newcomers, Ryan felt nervous. He itched to just grab the boy's hand, in dire need of comfort, answers, anything. Anyone would do, really.

"Hello, there. What's your name, son?" Asked a man, with a distinct Italian accent, wearing business attire.

_Classy, _thought Ryan.

Behind the man were 2 girls, who looked older than his newly acquainted saviour. They must be siblings, even if one of the girls lacked much resemblance to the rest of the family. Although her hair matched her brother's.

"Ryan."

He waited for another answer.

"Reeves, Ryan Reeves."

"Alright, Ryan. What we're going to have to do is phone your parents. Okay? They're gonna come and pick you up, and that's all that needs to happen. No police, no explanation to us. Nothing. That sound good?"

"You're not phoning my parents." Ryan shook his head.

"We can't let you go home without speaking to your parents, they need to know exactly what happened. They need to be told by adults, and the doctors need to tell them about your injuries." The man replied.

"No."

To which the man asked, "And why not?"

No answer.

"Because if you want to do it the hard way, we'll have to call the police to get them to find your parents."

"No, no. Don't. Look, I won't do it, again." Ryan pleaded.

"Nice try, kiddo." The doctor scoffed, ready to leave the room to call the police from thr reception.

"I don't have parents." Ryan grimly announced.

A little shocked, the other boy responded, "You're an orphan? ...Do you live on the streets?"

"No, and no." Ryan closed his eyes, "Care home."

"Oh, well, that makes this situation more serious, I'm afraid. It's the cops or the phone number." Repeated the Italian man.

Ryan's eyes watered and begged, "...Well, can I not do it, right now? I'm not ready...please."

If Mike and May-Li were to discover what he had done… He was in for it. He already had enough on his plate. Ryan didn't need therapy, or to be sent away to a special children's home.

"Papa, he can come to our house." Suggested the girl that shared the angel boy's frizzy hair.

"We could clothe him, give him food. Calm him down. I'm not surprised he doesn't want his carers seeing him in this state." Agreed the other sister.

"Do you want to?" The kind boy asked Ryan, who eagerly nodded.

_Anything to get out of this mess._

"See? He wants to, Papa." He insisted, grabbing his father's hand.

_How disgustingly cute. _Ryan almost rolled his eyes. _Kids with loving parents, how wonderful._

The man sighed in return, defeated, "And then will you give me your home number?"

"Deal." Ryan promised, aching to be away from this hospital.

It was on the car ride there that Ryan finally gained the courage to ask, "What's your name?"

"Laie. Like the word "lay," but spelt weirdly."

"What about your sisters?"

"Tessiera is the oldest, then Zimera."

"You have weird names." Ryan squinted at the Ang- no, _Laie. _

"We're Italian."

"Are those Italian names?"

"...Nope, my parents wanted to give us wacky names so that we were as unique as possible - or something cheesy liek that. Although my father's name is Alessandro Luca Realistor." Laie recited in an over-exaggerated Italian accent, cracking a smile in both boys.

The name Realistor rang a bell in Ryan's still-water-filled head. Then, he noticed that their car was a business car, with tinted windows, a drinks table, lavish sofas like a limousine. The chauffeur, yes, _the chauffeur, _was even separated by a black screen.

It couldn't be, though. Weren't the Realistors one of the wealthiest in Newcastle? How did Ryan cross paths with them?

"Is your dad...the guy who owns that shopping centre?" Ryan inquired, timidly.

"The very same. So, you've heard of us?"

"...You're that _rich_ Italian family?"

Laie chuckled, "...Sure. One of many."

"You don't seem stuck up, for a rich kid."

"You don't seem screwed up, for a care kid." Laie countered, tilting his chin.

"You don't know me." Ryan mumbled, reluctantly leaning on Laie's shoulder in defeat from his migraine.

Not a peep of protest from Laie.


	4. Chapter 4: Accused

When they arrived at the shopping centre a few minutes later, which Ryan later learned that the Magnolia Hospital was actually connected to the far side of.

"Don't tell me you live _in_ the shopping centre?"

"Sorry, it's true. Papa has almost _a__ll_ of his businesses attached, like a massive maze. We live on the upper floors." Laie told him, and Ryan glanced up at the many, many floors.

"Why?"

"He said it's easier to run all of his businesses in the same place, so he doesn't have to travel far. It also brings in more customers id everyone is coming to the same place." Tessiera chimed in

"I've never been in here. It's too modern and expensive for lower middle class people. You know, _normal_ people." Ryan emphasised, as he followed the Realistor siblings into the busy building - a minor limp holding him at a disadvantage in terms of speed.

Every restaurant was fancy. Every shop was too impressive to look at. It went on for miles on end. The Nexus Shopping Centre truly had the ability to be a home, the children would never have to leave the building - assuming they were homeschooled. Surprisingly, there was no school attached to the centre. That would probably ward off customers, Ryan thought, amused at the idea.

The family lived in the penthouse, which required a variety of security locks. It was quite strange, two keycards and the rest were handprints and iris scanners. Laie explained that people who worked in the offices had access to use the keycards. Only people that Alessandro, his father, trusted were granted the right to have access to the handprint and iris scanners.

"Isn't it a bit...dodgy?" Ryan paused, "Why the need for such high security measures?"

"Papa says that his job can be dangerous, sometimes."

"He's a businessman..."

Laie stared into his eyes for a moment, "I know. That's what I thought, too. He doesn't explain anymore than that whenever I ask, so I gave up trying to figure it out."

The suites themselves were gorgeous, Laie and his sisters had their own bedrooms, bathrooms and walk-in-wardrobes. Ryan asked him if he had ever been to Narnia.

"Zim swears she has." He replied.

It was four in the afternoon when Ryan had been given time to shower and change into Laie's oversized clothes. Much more comfortable and stylish than the hospital garments he had donned. It was cosy, Ryan had to admit, and carried a pleasant scent. The Realistors picked up on his refusal to eat and Tessiera told him that she would force feed him if he didn't finish the watery soup she provided for him.

"Thank you," Ryan spoke, "For the hospitality."

"Hey, so long as you're safe and sound, getting the help you need," Zim replied, patting one of his scarred arms - not that it was visible under the casts and bandages, "And, you're cute. So, stop ruining your skin."

Tess followed Zim out of the room after sending Ryan a sisterly smile.

It didn't remind him of Chloe.

"Before my dad comes back from whatever business meeting he's in, wanna watch TV in my room?" Laie suggested.

Ryan shrugged in response, but did as he said.

They got comfortable on the bed, as the TV chattered on with a reality show.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Sure, Ryan."

"Why aren't my injuries that severe? I should have broken my limbs, suffered brain damage."

"You did - break bones, I mean. Luckily, your head got away with a not-fatal concussion. You've got casts for your arms because of some drug that the doctor supplied you with. I think it's new, because I've never heard of it. Apparently it works so well that it makes broken bones mesh together much faster, or something. It's expensive as hell, though. My dad probably paid for it because the injuries would be too much and kill you. You'll be fine in a day or so." He explained, nonchalantly.

Ryan stuttered, "Wow, I'm not worth that much."

Laie choked on air, "I'd say you're worth more than that… I-I mean...everyone is. Nobody deserves death."

"I never thanked you for saving my life. I mean, I'm not that thankful, at all, that you saved my life," Began Ryan, "But, I'm thankful that you risked your health for me, that your family is so nice."

Laie made a breathy sound, "You sound like we're never gonna see each other, again. When your carer picks you up, I'll ask if we can come and visit. Make sure you're doing okay."

He leaned in for a hug to which Ryan was too shocked to fully reciprocate, but Laie didn't seem bothered. The bruise on his shoulder from Mike tinged with definitive pain when Laie had placed his hand there, but his wince wasn't visible.

Ryan wasn't entirely sure what to say, "I...uh...need a glass of water."

He said it all too fast, leaving a slightly confused Laie in the bedroom.

_That's enough. _Ryan thought, _now's my chance._

He felt a decent amount of guilt for doing this, but this was his plan the entire time. He hadn't intended on getting too close, but he wasn't giving them his home number. His life would be destroyed if Mike and May-Li were to find out about what he had done last night.

He had made a break for it. Out of the penthouse and down the never-ending stairs and then the lift for the rest of the way down when it became available. It was agony to rush and move the way he did. He should've been resting.

_No, he should have been dead._

As Ryan was a quarter-way down the building, Laie got off his bed.

What was taking Ryan so long?

Did he slip and knock himself out, or did he jump out of the window-

_Oh, no. _

"Zim! Tess!" Laie yelled, entering the kitchen.

"What?" Tess jogged in, Zim right behind.

"He's gone."

That he was.

_Gone._

Out of the building, and out of Laie's life.

The deed hurt Ryan more than he anticipated it to. He barely knew that boy, didn't even know how old he was, his favourite colour. Almost nothing.

But when he was with Laie, he forgot who he truly was. Laie didn't know anything about Ryan, and he couldn't judge Ryan for stuff that he didn't know about.

What was Laie thinking, right now?

He could hear Laie saying _good riddance,_ but he could also imagine him cursing Ryan for being a coward and leaving him.

Neither of which were correct, not that Ryan was aware.

Ryan hurriedly paced down the cobalt roads, disorientated. He struggled immensely due to the injuries that he had acquired, but he looked generally normal from afar. He didn't know where he was. This was the richer side of town. Some street names and signs sounded familiar, but not enough. He looked around for a taxi.

After calling one in, he escaped the desolate streets. Who said the rich were content? The very pavement they walked upon said it all. No liveliness, just bleak and isolated. He didn't feel threatened in the slightest in this unknown place. For multiple reasons.

Roughly half an hour later, the car pulled up onto the street a road down from Ashdene Ridge. Ryan had asked the driver not to go anywhere near the driveway.

"I'll get your money, hold on." Ryan told the taxi driver, wonkily running into the house which he never thought he'd see again.

The door was wide open, because he lived with idiots who had no sense of safety. He waltzed in, nobody around to pester him. He grabbed some money from his stash and jumped down the steps. Bolts of pain shooting up his legs, making him regret that decision, straight away. Seeming merrier than he was.

After paying the driver, Ryan entered the house, once again. This time, he shut the door behind him and-

"Ryan! Where have you been!?" Mike questioned, fear, joy and relief emanating from him, along with a pinch of guilt.

"Out."

"Out where?"

"Outside!" Ryan rolled his eyes, ready to go up the stairs.

"You've been gone for a whole day, and since last night."

"So?"

"Ryan, I called the _police! _...Look, I'm sorry about accusing you." Mike sighed, changing the subject just before the other children walked in.

Collective mutters filled the room, and May-Li made it her priority to notify the police that Ryan had returned home. This was Mike's mess to deal with. They had told the police it was a complicated disagreement. No mention of the sudden anger that Mike revealed that night.

"Oh, really?" Ryan asked in disbelief, "So, you found out who really stole it, then?"

Mike was about to answer, "It was-"

_"James, yes, I know,"_ Ryan nodded, sarcastically, "It was pretty obvious."

"How did you know it was James!?" Exclaimed Tyler, for Mike was wide-mouthed.

"I know things." Ryan mumbled.

_James was the new boy,_ the eldest boy now that he was here. He seemed nice as pie, but Ryan could tell that he could be just as much trouble as he could be sickly sweet.

"Ryan, why didn't you tell us if you knew it was James?" Whispered Jody, bewildered.

"None of you believed me when I said it wasn't me, so why would you believe me if I blamed James? You would just have a go at me. Though, at least I would gather proof that he did it before deeming him guilty." He snidely muttered.

Mike looked as if he wanted his shame to kill him, "Ryan, I'm so sorry-"

"Yeah, tell that to the bruise on my arm." Was the last thing Ryan said, before ending the conversation and heading to his room.

He earned a troubled silence from that.


	5. Chapter 5: Bruises

Ryan didn't sleep very well that night, skipping dinner and refusing the sandwich May-Li brought him.

He had no idea what it was. The inevitable realisation of what he had attempted to do, the understanding of what was going to happen, now that he was home, or whether he just missed his… Whether he felt guilty for what he did to Laie.

The next morning, he woke up and went to the bathroom. He inspected himself in the mirror.

Yeah, he looked like a wreck.

Cuts and scars scattered his skin when he pulled off the bandages. Yelping in pain as his fingerprints made contact with the injuries. The clear, sickly purple bruise from Mike's grip still haunted him. It wasn't like Mike had hit him, or _tried_ to hurt him. It just happened.

_It just happened._

He would have to remove the casts, tomorrow. Ryan was just grateful that he hadn't have to deal with the entire extent of the consequences of broken bones. How would he explain that one?

He found Mike waiting for him in his room, and he sighed in relief that he had his arms covered by the night robe.

"Hey." He smiled, and Ryan mirrored it back.

"Look, I just needed to apologise. I shouldn't have yelled at you, accused you...hurt you. I'm gonna tell my bos-"

"Don't be stupid." Ryan dismissed without care.

"W-What?"

"What's that gonna do? You'll get copped off to jail, and the kids'll hate me more than they already do for being the reason you're behind bars." Ryan exclaimed, "Besides, it's not like you hit me. And that just makes all the effort I went to getting you back after the file incident totally redundant. There's no point. It's not worth it. Why throw yourself in a cell?"

He said it like it was so simple.

"It may not be that serious. But Ryan, I still hurt you. That can't go unrecorded." Mike tried to reason with him.

"Then _be useful_ and get me some medicine to deal with the bruise. Get me some painkillers 'cause the pain is killing _me._ Make up for it - I don't want any chores for a month, at least. Extra pocket money wouldn't go amiss." Ryan crossed his arms, carefully.

_Of course, _Mike thought, _it always had to benefit Ryan. _At least the medicine he could understand.

"I'll go and get some cream." He nodded, leaving the room.

When Mike came back into the room, he was a little out of breath. Ryan had changed out of his pyjamas and into a shirt and jeans.

"Show me the bruise." Mike ordered, noticing that the clothes on Ryan's bedroom floor seemed a little bigger than Ryan's own size.

"I can do it myself." Ryan shook his head, aiming to take the pain relief cream.

"No, I have to do it. You won't do it right, I need to massage it in, and this stuff stings if you get it in your eyes." Mike insisted.

"How the hell would I get it in my eye?"

"_Language_, and because you might not wash your hands properly."

_I am perfectly hygienic. _Ryan wanted to say.

The child sighed, carefully pulling down the left-side collar of his shirt to only reveal the bruise and not any other injuries - self-inflicted or not. To be honest, Mike appeared desperate to put things right by acting fatherly. An illusion to make the events seem ordinary? Ryan wasn't determined to argue with the sudden change of personality.

Mike grimaced at the purple-green bruise, around about the size of, well, his hand. Gently, he applied the blue blob of pain relief which felt cold on Ryan's skin. He shivered, before it began to warm up as Mike massaged it in.

"Ow." Ryan winced when Mike pressed on the bruise, receiving yet another apology.

"All done." Mike grinned sincerely, once he was finished.

Ryan pulled the collar back up, exhaling through his nose.

"Why don't you come downstairs, have breakfast?" Mike extended a hand.

Ryan pushed himself off the bed, and continued to walk past the hand. They both knew that Ryan Reeves would hold a grudge, but Mike was patient. The elder man was astonished that Ryan didn't want revenge in the form of Mike sitting in a locked room with metal bars surrounding him.

At breakfast, Ryan picked at his toast. It just wasn't the watery soup that he was craving.

"You should have put chocolate spread on it instead of butter." James told him.

"Right, guys, we have some news," May-Li clapped her hands, "The council have given us an opportunity to go to a charity basketball event!"

No cheers followed.

"Who's the charity?" Joseph wondered.

"Us! Well, kids in care." She replied.

"That's just depressing." Ryan scoffed, bitterly.

"No, c'mon. It'll be fun. You get nice sports kits and you get to play with other carehomes, like GrayBridge and Heath...View." She murmured the last bit, and everyone took a moment to pay attention to Ryan.

"As long as I don't have to be anywhere near Heathview, I'm good. I won't ruin the whole day if that's what you're thinking. They don't bother me, I won't bother them." He glared, how could they think he would screw up a whole event dedicated to indirectly benefitting _him? _

"At the end of the event, each carehome is given a cheque." Mike attempted to entice the unenthusiastic teenagers.

"So, it's the council giving us money?" Inferred Sasha.

"Well, it's more of an organisation by some larger companies. Children In Need and all that, I think." May-Li shrugged.

"We have the kits, if you want to see them?" Mike added, and then came words of agreement.

They were yellow and blue. Not the most attractive combination. Ryan read _Magnolia Hospital Foundation_ on the t-shirt. So, this was a really big organisation if the hospital had something to do with it. It's not like care kids were all disabled, so they must have had some broad goals. Memories from the day before flooded his mind when reading the name. Ryan was curious to see if there was still a genuine flood of water still trapped in his skull.

"When is it?" Finn asked, holding his kit away from him in distaste.

"Wednesday." May-Li gleamed, with another round of moans.

"Look on the bright side, at the end of this we win money." Chloe was too optimistic for Ryan's taste.

_"How much?"_ Floss pointed out.

"Floss is asking all the right questions." Ryan agreed.

"The winners get £2000," May-Li replied, "The rest of us get a grand."

"Decent!" He heard Candi-Rose say.

There was no way he was playing in that game. He didn't have enough willpower to look at Laces' face, again. Not to mention the fact that he was injured. He didn't need the stupid money. He would be out of this place one day, and he couldn't take the money with him. So, he saw no personal gain in helping out. He'd just go along and then run off before the adults saw him. No harm done. Mike would feel too guilty to have a go at him, and he could milk the sore arm gig.

He'd just have to wait and see how it all played out.

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**Hiya, please leave a review. I would really appreciate it.**


	6. Chapter 6: Charity Event

**Cheers to Ozil (guest review) for the constructive criticism without being rude about it. Just wanna say I'm aware of the comma thing, but I've prewritten so much of this story that I just don't have the time to go and edit it all, since I have exams and stuff. As for the hyphen thing, I use my phone to write and I genuinely can't find the dash anywhere on my keyboard. I only have the underscore and hyphen, so I don't know why I don't have it. I know about the POV and reduntant dialogue tag rules, but I didn't realise I did it. Oops, I need to work on my editing skills for sure. Since I'm a teenage, amateur writer and have no intention of becoming a professional, I'm not too fussed about that stuff, but of course I wanna keep the story immersive and good, etc. So, I'll keep that stuff in mind.**

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"Everybody in the minivan! Tyler, Jody, Sasha, Ryan, come down!"

Ryan threw his kit in a black bag and chucked it under his bed, grabbing a different, empty black bag and leapt down the stairs.

"That's dangerous." Mike scolded him, before urging everyone into the vehicle.

Ryan sat at the front, by himself. He would take this opportunity to indulge himself in some music, but he knew that the ride was short. The thought of pulling out his tangled mess of headphone wires forced him to accept that he was just going to have to sit through the tedious journey.

It was when they arrived that Ryan got a whiff of fresh air. He didn't want to do this.

They entered the large, spacious gym which was already packed with people. He could see Graybridge, and another home - no sign of Heathview. He rolled his eyes back, closing them to relax. A sigh left his lips, this was all too much. It always was.

"Right, Ashdene Ridge?" The helper checked them off the list. "Your changing rooms are this way."

They were led to a cosy little suite with a main room. The girls room on the right and boys on the left.

"The budget for this venue must have been a lot." Charlie whirled around on the spot to get a good look at the Ashdene Ridge suite.

"This is a tad extravagent when we're only staying for a few hours." Bird mumbled.

"Don't complain." His little brother replied.

"C'mon, stop staring and start changing." Mike commanded.

Ryan let out a frustrated sigh. "I left my kit at home."

Mike's brows furrowed, a short exhale left rhe mans lips.

"Ryan…"

"Sorry, I must have taken the wrong bag from my room." The teenager lied. "My arm still aches, Mike. You aren't really going to let me play anyways, are you? What if the ball hits my arm?"

"I will take full responsibility and revoke your chores until you recover."

"I want extra allowance."

"Of course, you do."

"It'll be compensation."

Mike scoffed, "Well, then you're playing. And you had better play well if you want that extra allowance. The only way you're getting it is if we win."

"Welcome, ladies and gentlemen, to the Newcastle charity event for children in care." Announced the host, an applause follpwed from the crowd.

It was a bigger turnout than Ryan had imagined, but then he remembered that this was organised by "larger companies" as May-Li put it. Of course there would be press coverage and a crowd. What's the point in helping people if the world doesn't see you do it?

Ryan didn't pay attention to the speaker until he heard, "So, please welcome Mr Realistor, head of the Magnolia Hospital Foundation!"

That made a lot more sense, now. Laie had told Ryan that his father was a powerful man, and if he owned the hospital, it was exactly why Laie was allowed to stay with Ryan overnight. It was even practically attached to the shopping centre that he lived in, no doubt that his father owned that, too. That's why this event had such a high budget, Alessandro was the one paying for it.

"Thank you all for coming. Now, this is a great cause. Children who don't have the same advantages in life should not be discouraged from achieving their goals just because they don't have the money to pay for it. That's why I am doing this." Alessandro spoke into the microphone, pacing around his stage area.

He frowned through his words, pausing as he took a quick breath, "In fact, just the other day, I had the sad but motivating pleasure of meeting a young boy. My son had caught him trying to hurt himself, so we took him to the Magnolia hospital. When I asked for his parents' number, he told me that he was in care. I promised him that he could tell me his carer's number when he was ready. Unfortunately, he didn't want us to help him, and he sneaked out before anybody could find him. We have the police looking for him, now."

_What!? No, no way. The police are looking for me?_

Distressed, Ryan slid a little lower in his seat so that Alessandro couldn't see him. Joseph gave him an odd look to which Ryan glared, and that set Joseph straight.

"But, the powerful message here, is that these kids in care homes deserve the same opportunities and rights as normal children do. I don't want _any_ child in care to feel the way that boy did. Whatever he didn't want me to know, whatever his reasons were for running, I pray that he is okay. That he's safe. That's why I've been doing everything I can to help this event the moment I heard of it."

He deserved an applause, and even Ryan clapped gently.

He was good at reading people, and it baffled Ryan that this man - a rich, wealthy man - seemed sincere and honest in his speech. Of course, he was a little fake, but all speeches were glamourised for the media.

Ryan wondered, _hoped_ that Laie was here. Just to apologise, but maybe Laie never wanted to see Ryan's sorry face again.

They were rounded up into their different houses, and told to wait for their coaches. The adults sat back and enjoyed some drinks and desserts.

Ryan rolled his eyes at that.

"I thought our coach was going to be an adult, but it looks like we get some kids." Mumbled Sasha.

"Probably sporty kids." Added Jody.

"Hey, Ashdene Ridge?" A voice asked, and Ryan glanced over.

He had to do a double take to comprehend who it was.

"My name is Laie, and I'll be your trainer for the tournament." The teenager held a basketball, tossing it from hand to hand.

Ryan's mouth hung open when he saw Laie, and he realised that some of the girls were doing the same. Even in the unflattering kit, Ryan would still describe him as angelic. Perhaps he was bias. The boy did save his life, after all.

"He's really hot." He heard Candi-Rose say, and Chloe nodded, "Handsome, too."

Ryan wanted to throw up.

"He's not all that if you ask me." James nudged Ryan, who stuttered and crossed his arms.

"...Yeah. I know, right?"

Laie began to explain how the tournament was going to work, and then he began to teach them some skills for practise.

"I need a volunteer."

Ryan cringed when the some of the girls put their hands up, some of the younger boys, too.

"You." Laie pointed. "The one with _no kit._"

Ryan stared, he didn't think for a moment that Laie had even remembered him. The boy hadn't acknowledged Ryan in the time he was speaking, and now all of a sudden he was his little helper?

"Go, then!" Alex whispered harshly, pushing Ryan forward.

After saving himself from a stumble, Ryan walked towards Laie. He sent a panicked glance to Laie, and he hoped that Laie would read it as remorse or fear. Unfortunately, Laie's expression became unreadable.

"This, is how you do a bounce pass." Laie demonstrated, sending it to Ryan.

Ryan sent it straight back to Laie flawlessly. They demonstrated several other moves, before Laie dismissed the children to practice in pairs.

"There's an odd number of kids, so you can be my partner." Laie told Ryan, who didn't say a word, but he caught a glimpse of James.

He was glaring.

"But, first, let's get you a spare kit." Laie began to walk away, and Ryan had to catch up.

They got to the benches, where Mike, May-Li and Laie's father just so happened to be in conversation.

"Papa, can I take _Ryan_ to go and get a spare kit?" Laie asked his father, and Alessandro blinked in recognition.

"He supposedly forgot it, didn't you?" May-Li giggled.

"_Oh, _yes. Go on." Alessandro answered Laie, then smiled at Ryan. "So, you're from Ashdene Ridge? May I ask how you liked my speech?"

_What was this man doing? _

"Uhh, it was very...emotional?"

"Because of the story about the boy?" Mike pried.

_Was Alessandro going to tell Mike about what happened?_

"Yeah, yeah. Very strong message. Hope it gets through to the kids." Ryan grinned, exaggeratedly.

"Indeed." Alessandro's mild accent came through as he spoke. "I would hope that the boy, wherever he is, _speaks to an adult who can help him._"

"Ryan?" Laie called, signalling to follow him.

As Ryan walked behind Laie, he braced himself.He knew there was going to be an awkward conversation between them when they were finally alone.

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**Sorry for the extra cringe this chapter, people. **


	7. Chapter 7: Fake Tears

**For the few of you that may care, sorry for not uploading in a while. Exams, mental health, and just life in general are some of the things to blame.****Hope you enjoy; reviews are appreciated. **

**P.S: Yes, I'm fully aware the writing is awkward****.** **I write for fun, not professionally lol. **

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"What size are you?" Laie asked, swinging the keys on his finger after unlocking the door to the storage suite.

"Um, a medium?"

Laie took one look at him, eyeing Ryan down to his feet. It was one of the most nerve wracking moments in Ryan's life. Why did he feel like that? He had never felt this insecure, before.

Laie's voice was flat, monotone. "No, you're not."

He chucked a plastic package at Ryan, who flailed his arms whilst catching it. He read the size tag on the clothing, XS.

"This is too small." He whispered.

"I can hand you an S if you want, but that's your size."

Ryan shrugged, awkwardly.

"Do I wear it, here?"

"Yeah."

"Can you...turn around?" Ryan mumbled, and Laie sent him a confused, odd look.

"I'll stand by the door." He told Ryan.

As Ryan changed into the kit of the correct size, he decided it was time to be even more awkward.

"Are we ever going to talk about...it?"

"What's there to say?" Laie remarked.

"I left because I didn't want you to find out where I lived or who I lived with. I'm sorry." His voice cracked, slightly.

Laie turned around, "What's so wrong with getting help?"

"I'll get sent to therapy, and I'll get thrown into a special home. You don't understand how hard it is." Ryan explained.

Laie sighed, "I get it, I just… I really wanted to be someone that you could talk to. We may never have seen one another, again."

"You've gotten the closest than anyone else in my life." Said Ryan.

"Well, if that's not a compliment, I don't know what is." Laie joked, before focusing his vision on Ryan's arms.

He cautiously put his palm on Ryan's bruise and held it there protectively for a few seconds.

"I need to cover them up, before we go out there." Ryan muttered.

"Here." Laie passed Ryan his light blue hoodie, and it hung off his frame like a sack - if it was oversized on Laie, it was over-oversized on Ryan.

"I've taken so many of your clothes, already."

Laie shrugged, holding the door open for Ryan, "Keep'em. Looks good on you."

Grateful that Laie was behind him so that he wouldn't have to visibly react to the compliment, Ryan walked out of the storage suite.

"Will your dad call off the police?"

"Should do."

"What took you both so long?" Asked James, when they returned.

Laie stared him down. "Just helping Ryan find a kit. C'mon, let's practise or else Ashdene Ridge won't be winning 2 grand off my father."

Ryan paused when James stopped him, "Won't you get hot in that, Rye?"

Ryan figured he was addressing the hoodie, and anxiety arose at the fact that somebody even cared about it.

"I'm alright."

Was it that obvious that he was trying to hide something?

When he went back to Laie, he established that he needed a way out. Laie was dribbling the ball, mindlessly.

"Laie, hit me with the ball."

"What? Ryan, it still counts as self harm if you get someone else to hurt you." Scolded Laie, tilting his head in disapproval.

"No, I don't want to do the matches...or any chores. Hit my bruise hard enough that I cry."

"No, I'm not hurting you!" Laie denied, backing up a little.

"Look, if I get injured, it means I get to sit on the bench with you the entire time." Ryan attempted to soften him up.

"What...makes you think I want you to sit next to me?" Replied Laie.

"Well, you said something like you wanting to be my friend."

Laie exhaled, confirming that Ryan wasn't going to give up, "You're lucky I have good aim. Hold still, I'm not doing it too hard. I'll get some water to fake proper tears. Hopefully your pain in general is enough to fool'em."

Quickly, he shot the ball at Ryan with an alarming force. It hit the bullseye. Ryan cried out in pain; the room was too loud for anyone else to hear it. Laie poured a little water onto Ryan's moist cheeks, the droplets resembling tears.

"Is he okay?" James ran over with Alex, hostility in his frame.

He must have been watching.

"He'll be fine, just a sore shoulder." Laie moved Ryan away from James and Alex, and towards his carers.

"We have a man down." Laie told May-Li.

She pulled Ryan into her arms, massaging the bruise through the pale blue hoodie.

Laie winked at Ryan as he walked back over to the DG kids.

"Mike?" Ryan whimpered, earning a concerned hum from the man in question.

"I think you owe me some extra pocket money."

May-Li laughed at that as Mike sighed, "Let's hope the DG win without you then, Ryan."

Ryan wasn't prepared in the slightest when the whistle blew to start the tournament.

"Heathview vs Greenhill!"

Ryan sat next to James and Alex as they spectated, apparently Laie had somewhere else to be.

"Who do you place your bets on?" Joked James, smugly.

"I'm thinking Greenhill have the upperhand." Replied Alex.

"Heathview are gonna play dirty, though." Ryan muttered in spite.

"You can tell, too?" Asked James.

Although James had only been a resident for less than a month, Ryan could already infer that James was smarter than he let on. He kept it hidden, unlike Ryan. He could appreciate that.

Just as predicted, Ryan watched Laces trip over an innocent girl to strengthen Heathview's attack. Seconds before the time limit, Heathview scored the winning shot.

Ryan sighed, as the boys stood up. It was time to face Graybridge. He wished them good luck.

"Enjoying the view?" He felt Laie sit down beside him where James was previously sat.

"No, we need to win this." Ryan was on edge.

"You really don't. I'm rich, and my dad spoils me."

"What's that got to do with anything? Stop rubbing in your wealthiness to a care kid." Ryan said, irritated.

Laie lent closer, the vibrations picking up on Ryan's ear, "I can give you a cheque with a sum far more than £2000."

"...Why?"

They paused to see Alex score a point, and both cheered even though Laie had no idea who Alex was.

"Because, you're my friend. Therefore I'm bias and I want Ashdene Ridge to win. If you don't, I'll make sure that your group get more than the prize money that you deserve, anyways."

"Would your dad be okay with that?" Ryan requested to know, unsettled.

"Of course, I already asked him." Laie crossed his arms and legs, shrugging, "I mean, he'll probably make me sit in economy class when we go on holiday for the next 2 years. But that's okay."

"How much is he willing to give us?" Ryan interrogated the older boy.

Graybridge scored a point.

"Max? £2500." Laie estimated.

The Scouse boy didn't reveal his glee when hearing the number. His attention soon moved to something else; Ryan felt Laie's piercing stare, but it didn't feel threatening. It felt depressed

"What's wrong?" Ryan broke the miniature silence, sitting up a bit more straight.

"Is your arm okay?" Laie wondered, sincere care in his tone.

"Yeah, yeah… It's fine. Aches a little, though."

Laie exhaled lightly through his lips, before creeping them into a smile.

After an uneventful 10 minutes James had won the DG the match, and Ryan clapped and cheered.

Laie's expression irked him.

"Why do you look annoyed?" Ryan asked, a little defensive.

"I don't like the way he acts. He's weird, I don't trust him." Admitted Laie.

"What are you talking about? I've known James longer than I've known you." Ryan replied.

"I could say the same." Laie mumbled, standing up to leave when James and Alex returned.

"...Wait, Laie. What do you mea-"

He was cut off by James, blocking his view of Laie.

"Proud of us, Rye?"

"Very," Ryan replicated an unconvincing smile, "if we're up against Heathview, I need to play."

"You're injured." Alex reminded him.

"Not anymore." He informed them, leaning back in his chair.

This game had better win them the first prize, and better yet, it had better deter his mind from Laie.


	8. Chapter 8: Battle On The Court

**Hey, sorry that it's been a while. I'm uploading today because it's Justice237's birthday, and I owe him a gift, haha. Happy birthday, bro.**

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**To be honest, I'm not that happy or comfident in my writing. So, I'm not sure if I'll finish this story. I have another dozen chapters written, but I don't really have the motivation to post them tbh.**

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**So, this might be the last chapter, it might not be. IDK. Regardless, I hope you enjoy it. I wrote this so long ago, haven't done much editing, so I would say don't expect anything amazing lmao.**

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Of all the strangers Laie had met in his life, Ryan was one of the most peculiar. Although, Laie's instincts were very well-used and accurate, he had some difficulty trying to deconstruct Ryan's intentions and emotions as they walked back into the hall.

"What's Ryan doing? He's meant to be on the bench!" He heard Ryan's careworker ask the other one, but she didn't know the answer.

Laie stood behind Ashdene Ridge team's sub bench, as he watched Ryan replace a girl with long brown hair in a neat ponytail on the team so that he could rejoin.

Ryan half-heartedly apologised to her, before walking to the court.

"Well, what do we have here?"

Ryan didn't back down from confrontation.

"What do you want, Laces?"

"Just want you to know that it's a shame you don't live at Heathview, anymore. You could have been on the winning team."

"Just don't play dirty, _Evan_." Ryan warned him, uncrossing his arms as he entered his position. Laces couldn't hide behind his cowardly pet name, forever.

It was a lot of back and forth, that game. Both teams kept evening out the score by halftime. Ryan was stuck in the centre, handing the ball to the boys to score. Charlie and Tyler were stuck in defence.

When the half-time whistle blew, Ryan sat down at the bench.

Laie walked over to him with a bottle of water, "You smell like sweat."

Ryan rolled his eyes, snatching the bottle from him.

"Well, somebody's arm must have magically healed. You're playing just fine!" Mike interrupted them.

Ryan didn't even look like he had been caught out, "It still very much hurts, Mike, but we won't win if I don't help out. And if we don't win, you can't buy me a phone." He then took a gulp of water.

Mike scoffed, a hint of remorse in his tone as he walked away to deal with Jody, who was arguing with Jay about how she should be playing instead of him.

"And when you get that new phone, I expect to be the very first contact you add to your contact list." Laie decided, unwavering, to lighten the mood.

"Is that your way of getting my number?" Ryan teased.

"I can't be your friend if I can't contact you." Reasoned Laie.

Ryan remained silent as Laie sat beside him. Some small talk ensued between the team members before the whistle blew to call the players back in.

They had to score one more time, whilst making sure Heathview didn't score again, in order to win.

The round began with Heathview capturing the ball, but Charlie had exceptional defence and threw it to Tyler, who then tossed it to Alex, who then managed to score.

Early victory. There was still time to fail, and now Ryan's instincts warned him that the foul play would make an appearance.

It was a stalemate for the entire middle segment of the game. However, at the last seven minutes, tensions began to rise.

It seemed to Ryan that James was spectacularly skilled when under pressure, effortlessly bagging Ashdene Ridge the next point. They were one point ahead.

However, their winning streak didn't last long.

The more menacing residents of Heathview House didn't seem pleased with the way this was going, and within four minutes, the scores were evened out, again.

Three minutes remaining.

In the next round, Ryan had somehow acquired the ball, bouncing it along to send it to James. Out of thin air, Laces, of course, Laces, blocked him - which was perfectly allowed.

What wasn't allowed was the elbow to his left arm as he decided to graze past Ryan. The elbow to the injury ignited a fiery line of pain through Ryan's arm. He yelped in pain, forgetting the ball which found itself into the arms of another Heathview resident. He weakly clutched the affected area, not wanting to concern himself with the coincidence of being elbowed in the exact place of his still-prominent, still-unhealed bruise from Mike.

One minute remaining.

Laie stood helpless on the sidelines as Laces' teammate outwitted Charlie and Tyler and earned yet another win. Although, what Laces had done had caught his eye, and he told his father of the unsportsmanship of Ryan's foe.

"What kind of referee have I employed if he can't see a simple foul?" Alessandro muttered, but to be fair, Laie thought, nobody else seemed to catch the aggressive manoeuvre, either.

After some harsh words to the referee, he called foul play. Ashdene Ridge were given a penalty shot, or more specifically, Ryan.

Ryan wasn't the tallest of the players on the team, so he struggled when he was told to shoot past the defenders.

He tried, pushing with force at a decent angle. The ball spun as it hurtled towards the hoop.

Then, it was hit back out of the way.

_For fuck's sak__e._ Ryan thought.

The game started back into motion. Wildly taking control of the ball, Laces charged towards the opposing team's hoop. Ryan tried to follow, but it was too late. So, he stopped in his tracks, just observing what was to play out.

Twenty seconds remaining.

Laces hastily chucked the ball in a frenzy against time, but Alex knocked it back. It fell into James' hands, but there wasn't enough time for him to run.

Ten seconds.

It'll be a draw, and we'll go into extra time. Ryan realised, I'm too exhausted for this.

Nine seconds.

It was perfect that all the players, minus Ryan and the opposing team's defenders, were on Ashdene Ridge's side of the court. That meant Ryan had a clear court to throw the ball into the hoop. No blockages to delay him.

Eight seconds.

When Ryan caught James' eye, both discovered that very detail to be quite significant.

James didn't utter a word, catapulting the ball as if it was a javelin. It zoomed through the air, and Ryan didn't catch it, but it bounced on the ground, and he grabbed it.

Five seconds.

It was a long shot. Summoning what little luck he had, he launched the ball once he had a good view. Although the defenders had made an attempt to stop him, they were marginally too slow and too baffled to fathom that there was a chance that the stalemate could be broken. They had been caught off-guard.

Four seconds.

There was a sound of cluttering metal or plastic as the ball danced along the rim of the hoop, concluding which side to obey gravity on.

Three seconds.

Ultimately, it chose to fall to the right.

_Right_ into the hoop.

One second.

The klaxon sounded, signalling the end of Ryan's suffering. He never wanted to look at a basketball, again. His arm ached, a dull throb that was louder than the crowd's cheers.

Even the Ashdene Ridge residents pulled Ryan into a team hug. The one time they had been proud of him. He accepted it.

When Ashdene Ridge were awarded the cheque, Ryan was the one requested to take the picture with Mr Realistor and his children. He didn't want to smile, he never did. It was just the scowl on Laces' face that pulled out a long-lost grin.

As they gathered their belongings, Laie entered the Ashdene Ridge suite.

"Hey." A smile escaped Ryan's lips as he pressed passed the swarm of kids blocking the doorway.

"Great game, well done." Laie congratulated him.

"Thanks, and now since I _genuinely_ injured myself. Mike is totally obliged to buy me a new phone." Ryan declared.

"Is that all you took away from this experience?" Pondered Laie.

"Yep, that and your daddy's money."

"Speaking of your new phone," Laie handed him a piece of paper, "That's my number."

"Alright, you 'orrible lot!" Mike bellowed, "In the car in five minutes, or else you get left behind!"

"I'll speak to you, soon, right?" Laie sounded hopeful, "Promise?"

"Cross my heart and hope to-" Ryan paused as Laie narrowed his eyes, "..._Fly_. Hope to fly."

"Stick some cherries on your pie." Laie finished.

"Is that seriously our goodbye to each other?" Ryan sniggered, as he watched Laie turn around.

"Pretty much." Laie confirmed, as he left the room.

Ryan withheld a smile, and stuffed the paper into his back pocket.


End file.
